LATE The world was plotting against me- (it always does when I'm running late) The weather was nice- perhaps the nicest we'd had all year, but I was to busy to notice After all I had meetings to attend. The traffic seemed to plot against me in it's cold and mechanical way I watched the minutes pass, I realised I was going to be unacceptably late. "Who do I have to kill to get me out of this traffic!?!" My patience was wearing as thin as my neglected brake pads Finally we moved Just a little, but enough to appease the burning ulcers forming in my stomach My eyes drifted towards the * flashing *lights* A stout policeman frantically tried to direct the traffic with his chubby arms- "Damn authorities think that they can control the world with their damned fluorescent torches." The car inched closer Just close enough for me to realise there had been an accident "Probably some Yobbo's had a bit of a fender bender. Just great! Just what I need right now!" My nostrils filled with the smell of burnt rubber My eyes traced the manic Zig Zag pattern of the tire marks- a painful contrast to the stillness of a young boyish face reddened with road rash a helmet helplessly clung to his head His limp body remained motionless on a stretcher All hope was gone for him. We had both been Late. |
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Late |
By: Elisha "Snark" |
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